


I Deserve This

by HedaBeka



Series: I-mthebadguy's Drabbles [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Graphic Violence, Torture, Will add tags as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedaBeka/pseuds/HedaBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles and prompts for The 100.<br/>1) John Murphy - torture, angst [contains graphic violence]</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Deserve This

A cold breeze drifted over Murphy as he crawled towards the corner of his cell and swayed from the prodding hands that had grabbed at him. A cry jolted from his lips and came out as a mangled moan. The grounder had buried a knife into his side - just where it would hurt like hell but not damage any crucial organs. A sick laugh cackled off of his tongue, but switched into a sob halfway through as he leaned away from the looming figure. The man was speaking to him - asking something if the frustrated tone when he failed to answer said anything - but his ears muffled out his words.

"I d- I don't understand you," the words tumbled out of him in a cry. It didn't matter - it wouldn't change anything. The grounder drew out the still embedded knife, slowly - so slowly. A gravelly cry pushed past his gritted teeth and he heard it break off as his voice became lost in the air. He had screamed himself out - all that was left was a crackled panting. Murphy tried in vain to pull away from the grounder; his pleas coming out in a ragged, wet cough as blood dribbled down his chin and dripped onto his exposed chest. It glided down his chest, getting lost in the various cuts marring his body. Murphy moved back slowly, groaning as he grabbed at his side and felt at the new wound. His fingers slid over the new hole and dipped in, coming out a sickly dark red before he lowered his hand from his gaze. Bile rose in his throat and mingled with his blood as he hunched over on his side, expelling the little he had eaten before he had been captured. He hovered there for a few more moments, arms shaking as he held himself up - tears glistening on his face as a ragged cough tore through him.

A darkness suddenly fell upon his gaze as a pain shot through the back of his skull. His arms gave way and suddenly the scent of bile was overwhelming as he laid hunched in the pool of vomit and blood, his nose buried into the vile mess. Murphy could feel the blood slickening his hair, matting it further as it formed a clump beside the blunt wound.

It was hard to tell how long he remained in that position - breathing in the vile scent of his insides and the biting back a sob as pain smothered his senses. But it didn't seem long before he heard the familiar sizzle of a hot blade being dipped into a vat of cool water. Then a blistering heat ripped through his side and a gasping scream grazed his throat.

"W-" Blood drizzled out of the corner of his mouth, and he rose slightly on shaking hands to spit the blood out of his mouth, "Why?" The word was numb on his lips as he fought to speak around the sharp, bitter tasting blood. His vision had already started to return in bursts of white light, but now it began to clear. He tipped his chin up to stare at the grounder, who was quite blurry since his vision was still not clear, before lowering to stare at the burning blade that was still pressed against his side. Murphy suddenly wished his vision hadn't returned because if there was anything to be appalled by, it was the sight of his own flesh bubbling and the blood that had spilled free boiling. If he didn't feel like death itself, he might of joked that his blood really was boiling over this.

Murphy pinched his eyes shut, trying to get as far away from the sight. But the cool grip of a leathered hand snatched at his chin and jerked his head to the side, tightening on his jaw until he opened his eyes and met those of the grounder.

"Why?" The one word ghosted the air as he stared at the frustrated grounder, tears blurring his vision as he coughed up more blood and blubbered out the word again.  
"Because you deserve it, John." The man's lips moved, but the words didn't match the way the man's lips jumped.

It became apparent real quickly to Murphy that the voice wasn't his. No. He knew this voice. He hadn't heard it for years - but it had been sounding in his skull ever since he had lost his father to space. _Mom_. The grounder had stopped moving their mouth, but the voice kept echoing in his skull - pounding at his ears and implanting itself into his memory. Into his soul.

"I deserve this," Murphy whimpered as the hot blade was dipped back into a flame, this time not moving towards het water bucket before it slapped against his back and tore at his skin. A soft moan slipped away from him as he sunk to the ground, lips moving in a chorus of "I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this..."


End file.
